


I can wait forever (but don't take too long)

by Arial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arial/pseuds/Arial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lucifer's fault. It's his damned fault that Michael is dying but he <i>won't</i> let that happen. Not like this. Not ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can wait forever (but don't take too long)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratpenatu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratpenatu/gifts).



_“There is nothing left of you_  
 _I can see it in your eyes_  
 _Sing the anthem of the angels  
_ _And say the last goodbye_

_I keep holding onto you_  
 _But I can’t bring you back to life_  
 _Sing the anthem of the angels  
_ _Then say the last goodbye_

_You’re dead alive, you’re dead alive_  
 _You’re dead alive, you’re dead alive.”_  
 _(Anthem of the angels – Breaking Benjamin)_

 

 

 

His brother’s skin was frighteningly pale, his eyes glassy and lifeless already. Lucifer took him in his arms, shooting a murderous glare to the angels still surrounding them.

«Leave the Earth now» he hissed. «And never return.»

They obeyed instantly and flew in a cacophony of feathers and strong wings. A sour smile stretched Lucifer’s lips in a thin line: without Michael protecting their collective asses, his brothers weren’t righteous enough to risk their life against him. Not for the Father they’ve never seen. Not even for a chance to save their Prince.

To Hell with every single one of them; he was everything Michael needed.

«You shouldn’t have done that.»

It was barely a whisper, still his throat throbbed as if he had screamed himself hoarse. Gulping down bitter saliva, Lucifer stroked Michael’s cold face.

The corner of his brother’s mouth lifted in a tired smile. «And let that Virtue steal my moment, are you out of your mind?»

Heavy eyelids curtained the opaque turquoise of those borrowed eyes and a frantic Lucifer shook his brother awake. «Don’t you dare, Michael. You hear me? Don’t you dare die like this.»

He was so angry, for he had let a lesser angel get the best of him; Sam Winchester had stalled his hand and got in his way, but Lucifer wasn’t lenient with anybody, not even himself: he had let his guard down, convinced as he was that the hunter was just a harmless, pretty thing, and now his brother was paying for it. Even though he was the one fated to destroy him, Michael hadn’t hesitate to put himself between Lucifer and a blade. And for such an effort, he was the dying one.

Lucifer was going to smash Dean Winchester’s neck. He will have Sam watch his big brother die at his own hands. A slow, agonizing death. Just not now. Not until Michael was better.

He lifted Michael’s head and rested it on his shoulder. His brother’s breath was shallow, his pulse weakening by the second. Lucifer could have had it his way, but he didn’t want to: everything that was going to happen would have to be Michael’s choice.

He produced a phial from his breast pocket and showed it to his brother’s face.

«What is it?» asked Michael, his voice barely audible.

«They are tears. Our Father’s.»

Michael smiled again: a pale, exhausted showing of blood-smeared teeth. «Do you want my corpse christened by tears, no matter whose?»

Lucifer shook his head. «I want to save you, but I lack the power to do it myself. If you drink them, you won’t die.»

«But?»

«You will sleep amongst the dead, for as long as they will, until His Voice will wake you up.»

A shiver run up Michael’s spine. «It’s meant for them, not for us. Besides, only the worthy will hear Him at Judgment Day» he retorted faintly.

Lucifer smiled with a fondness he thought lost eons ago. «You will hear Him, Michael. You are the good son, remember?»

His brother’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. «I don’t want to die out of Father’s grace. I’ve already disappointed him.»

«You haven’t. You never could.» Lucifer pressed trembling lips against Michael’s skin, drinking the salt out of it and swallowing his own pride at the same time. «Don’t do that to me. I don’t know life without you, Michael. I don’t want to experience it.»

Lucifer didn’t know if it was the blood loss and confusion that did the trick, or just his brother taking pity on him, but Michael obeyed. He nodded weakly and closed a shaking hand on the one bringing the phial to his lips. Gasping, he tried to gulp the tears down. He coughed, his clear eyes desperately begging for air, his throat bobbing up and down uselessly.

Lucifer put a reassuring hand on his brother’s compressed chest.

«You did good, Michael» he said, caressing that so loved face. «Even a single drop is enough.»

It took Lucifer a while to comprehend that Michael wasn’t staring at him, but at something else. Something beyond both of them. Their Father’s mercy, perhaps.

He stood up, scooping Michael in his arms.

Michael’s head slipped out of his grasp and Lucifer clung at him with renewed fervor. He could hear several bones shatter, but he was beyond caring. That body, that _corpse_ , was just a shell: Michael wasn’t in there, not really.

Still he couldn’t let go. He had to protect everything that was his brother, even if that meant look after a corpse that wasn’t even Michael’s.

There was one place where Michael would be safe, out of their brothers’ reach. It was Hell, Lucifer knew it. And so he went there.

As soon as he landed, Lucifer sensed Hell’s putrid embrace closing on them. On Michael.

Without his grace filling it, the body his brother had inhabited started to decay; death’s gangrenous fingers were already dancing on those bluish lips and Lucifer chased them away with his own.

He kissed Michael – silently, for long – his mangled and frigid grace replacing the fire that no longer than an hour before went through those now dead veins.

The body under him started breathing again. Still, it remained unconscious, unresponsive, for there wasn’t a soul housing it.

They were in the Pit’s darkest corner: no light could ever grace its soiled ground, the only voices audible were the desperate screams of the damned. But far in the distance, like an echo. An afterthought.

The souls trapped there will never hear God’s voice. They were beyond salvation. Michael, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He would hear his Father’s orders anywhere. The compulsion to obey too much ingrained in him, his loyalty too strong.

«You will wake, won’t you?» asked Lucifer, stroking affectionately a lock out of his brother’s forehead. «When Father returns.» A tender smile was still on his lips when he stood, but it turned feral as soon as his eyes left Michael’s peaceful face. «And how long do you think will take Him to return, brother?» he asked again, his voice sugary sweet. «Will He wait until I whipped each and every one of them out of the planet?»

And with those last words, Lucifer let Michael sleep: Dean Winchester was waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> ~ for the lovely Aizu ♥  
> I'm not a native speaker: have mercy, but point out each and every mistake. Thanks to my wonderful betas, AryYuna and Aizu. Yeah, she fixed her own fic. Shut up.


End file.
